


Now They Match

by KingOfClubs



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Don't Trust AJ, F/M, Five Years Later, Post-Canon, Romance Louis/Save Violet Route (Walking Dead), Violet Dies/Tenn Survives Route (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfClubs/pseuds/KingOfClubs
Summary: Louis’ eyes widened as he stared down at the walker now attached to his leg, it's decaying teeth still sunk into his skin, right under his knee.
Relationships: Clementine/Louis (Walking Dead: Done Running), Louis & Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Kudos: 23





	1. You've Gotta Be Pulling My Leg

Louis’ eyes widened as he stared down at the walker now attached to his leg, it's decaying teeth still sunk into his skin, right under his knee. He ripped the walker off, stabbing it between the eyes with his knife, taking in deep, shaky breaths and glancing around. He couldn’t see anyone; Clem, Aasim, Tenn… none of them were there. They just  _ left _ him. All he wanted to do was to scream out to someone - call for help. To call Clem, his  _ girlfriend _ , but… he couldn’t.  _ You need to find somewhere to cut this goddamn leg off.  _ He told himself, before bolting into a town he saw not far off into the distance. There had to be something there, something he could use. 

The herd of walkers followed him, and with his leg, it was hard to keep running. With the excruciating pain that shot through it each and  _ every _ time he bent the knee, it was difficult to maintain the pace. Yet somehow, he was still able to keep a pretty good distance in front of the walkers. His eyes watched as several houses passed by as he walked. 

A walker grabbed his arm and he shoved the knife into its head, pushing it off of him when he felt another walker come close. Louis took a deep breath, stabbing it as well before going back to running.

A house with a dog door soon caught his eye. Every other entrance to it had been boarded up, so it looked safe and he made a break for it, pushing himself into the small slot. A walker managed to grab onto his leg and took another bite in his ankle, right above his boot. Louis let out another scream in pain, but, noticing the new bite mark was in the same leg as the previous one, he breathed a small sigh of relief -  _ thank god _ . Louis used his good leg to kick the walker as hard as he could to get it off of him, pushing through the dog door. Luckily he was just about skinny enough to fit through, and he backed up.  _ Louis, you just need to find the cover. Come on…  _ he frantically scanned the room, finding the cover propped up against the wall. He grabbed it before slamming it into its place and locking it.

_ Dammit… _ Louis looked around the garage he was in as the walkers pounded on the large garage door. Louis’ eye caught a saw, and he ran and grabbed it.  _ This looks like something I can use to get this damn leg off. Now, something to make it so I don’t bleed out, because that would be—  _ His thoughts came to a halt when he noticed some resistance bands. Louis snickered, remembering the times that he had to use them in their gym class because the coach was pretty darn tough on the kids most of the time. He grabbed the yellow one, which was only ten pounds because in Louis’ mind that wouldn’t be too hard to tie around his leg when the time came for him to do the deed. Once again, Louis took in a deep breath and walked to the door to the house and opened it, walking in before he started shutting and locking it. Clutching the saw’s handle and the resistance bands, he limped into the living room, falling onto the floor, huffing in pain.

_ Come on, Lou. Just cut it off while you still have a shit ton of adrenaline in you.  _ He rolled up his jeans, tying the resistance band  _ tightly _ so he wouldn’t bleed out and grabbed a pillow off the couch to bite on: he had seen it in movies — when those were still a thing — to help people deal with the pain of getting their limb chopped off. He held the saw up, right above his knee, the cold metal meeting his skin sent a shiver down his spine. _ 3… 2… 1…  _ He pressed the saw down harshly, pushing it back and forth, screaming and sobbing into the pillow as he did. Despite being only halfway there, Louis dropped the saw.

He was writhing in so much pain. Tears streaming and pouring down his face, soaking into the pillow. Everything just hurt so fucking much. He took a couple of moments, simply to compose himself, find the strength in himself again to just finish.  _ Come on, Lou! Come on! Come on!  _ He picked it back up, only to finish the job. Though, as he went back to sawing back-and-forth, Louis found himself fading in and out of consciousness. He bit the pillow as hard as he possibly could when it was finally done.

And that’s when he finally felt himself pass out - or at least finally allowed himself to pass out, if only for a little while. Around an hour later, his eyes opened. Louis sat in the small house, against the wall, breathing heavily as he looked down at his leg, or rather his lack of one. He looked at the saw off to the side.  _ It’s okay, Lou. You’re gonna make it. You survived your tongue getting cut out. You can survive a simple cut off leg.  _ He closed his eyes, leaning further up against the wall. Everything hurt so much, but he had to stay quiet. He just…  _ had _ to. He needed to see Clem again, and now, they matched. Despite being out for an entire hour, he could feel adrenaline still rise in his body. The wound needed to be closed up.

He dragged himself to what used to be the kitchen; some tiles on the floor were either chipped, cracked, or completely gone from just how long it had been since the room was used. There were some dark brown cabinets with two double doors. They seemed to be filled with an assortment of cups and bowls on one side. While on the other end, below the cabinet doors was the sink where dirty dishes were piled up one by one, just begging to be washed. Louis, however, didn’t pay too much mind as to how it all looked. Instead, he began to search under the sink. _ Just need a needle and thread. Or something metal and fire. _

He pulled his knife out of its sheath on his belt, then looked back at the saw that he used to cut off the limb. The blood was still wet on it, even after the entire hour, shining off the metal. Louis scrunched up his nose and shuddered, looking away from the disgusting sight. If he still had a tongue, he would have stuck it out in disgust, but he didn’t really have the ability to do that anymore. Which sent an odd pang into his heart, despite not even thinking about the lost muscle for years. 

Shaking his head, he grabbed a first aid kit he found. The bright red box was now dusty, dirty, and faded from time. He crawled back over to the saw, knowing that he could use it later if he ended up finding something to burn because he always had a pack of matches on him.  _ Come on— wait, there was a fireplace, right?  _ He dragged himself over to the fireplace and sighed with relief when there was still wood.  _ Least I can’t die of blood loss now,  _ he lit the match and watched as the fire went up in a small flame. 

_ Maybe instead of heating up the saw, just sticking my entire leg into it would be better… _ Louis contemplated. It would be easier no doubt. And, that’s what he decided to go with.

He shoved his entire leg into the fire, screaming through the burn, pulling it out as fast as possible. The jeans leg he had rolled up had gotten slightly singed. But the wound was closed. And that was all that mattered.  _ Hey, and now I have a fire to not freeze to death. Can’t die of blood loss, and can’t die of the cold. I might just survive. Just have to wait to be found… And that’s going to take a while.  _ He took gauze from the first aid kit and wrapped up his leg, carefully. If Ruby were here, he knew that she would be able to find everything wrong with his patch-up job, but it was all he knew how to do and as long as he survived long enough to listen to her criticize it, he really didn’t care how bad it was.

Pulling up a pillow from one of the couches, though not the one he bit into earlier — that one was covered in tears and slobber that had not yet dried. Louis laid against it and turned his body so he could be closer to the fire.  _ All the windows are boarded, and so are the doors… at least that’s how it looked… the deadies aren’t coming in.  _ He assured himself as he soon fell asleep, his eyes feeling blurry and fuzzy.

_ Suddenly his eyes opened, and he looked around. Louis realized he was in his childhood bedroom. The small piano room; a 42in TV with a few gaming consoles on the ground and the shelf with game cases scattered all over the floor; then a fancy purple and blue lava lamp on his nightstand; the green walls plastered in posters; and the dark green comforter on his bed; everything is in place. Good.  _

_ He decided to get out of bed and rubbed his eyes. “God, I’m hungry,” he muttered to himself, heading q the grand staircase, hand on the railing, jumping the last few steps, putting his hands up like a gymnast as he laughed to himself. Then out of the corner of his eyes, a person moved in the window. He looked out, seeing a blonde girl. Her body was bloody, bites all over her.  _

_ Louis ran close to the window to get a better observation of what he was looking at. That straw-colored hair, that pin…  _ Violet?  _ That blood everywhere…? _

She’s bitten.

_ But… Violet is dead? Is he dead? Is this just some sick dream? _

_ “Violet? Violet, please!” he shouted, banging on the glass. “Violet just look at me!” he ran to the door, trying to open it, but it wouldn’t move, he even proceeded to kick at it a couple times to see if it’d budge… but to no avail. “Fuck! Fuck!” Louis moved and tried to open the window, but somehow it was slippery. His heart started racing. “Violet!” he almost screamed. His voice going hoarse as if he hasn’t spoken in years. _

_ No.. no, this wasn’t happening, maybe this was some kind of cruel prank instead? _

_ But… that was stupid - that was only an excuse his brain made up. _

_ In a panic, Louis picked up a bust statue of some Roman Goddess his mom got it at some fair off the shelf. He threw it as hard as he could against the glass of the window, expecting,  _ hoping,  _ for it to shatter and allow him to finally see Violet again. However, as the marble statue hit the window, the surface rippled in a way reminiscent of still water being hit with a rock. The statue fell with a loud thunk to the ground, half of its perfect-looking head coming open.  _

_ Suddenly Violet looked at Louis cocking her head. Almost as if the sound got her attention.  _

_ It was working, she could finally see him. _

_ There was a slight hope that filled up in him once she gazed at him with those now filmed eyes, almost piercing into his soul. But, the boy paid no mind; he simply wanted to get to her. He wanted to help her in any way he could... it just pained him to see her this way.  _

_ “Vi! Hey Vi, look it’s me! Louis, remember..?” He spoke in a softer tone than he used previously. However, that amount of hope he had started faded as his friend turned her head in the opposite direction as if she was ignoring his presence. Louis helplessly shouted her name, over and over, banging on the window so hard he thought he’d made some cracks in the glass. This only caused Violet to drift further away until, eventually, he was alone. _

_ Don’t go, please! This can’t be happening, this can’t be—  _


	2. Chapter 2

Louis startled awake, sweat pouring from his face and a heaving chest as he frantically glanced around the room. Something about it felt off... foreign. He didn't recognize the pictures on the walls, the roughness of the now sanguineous carpet, the broken clock on the wall. _This isn't the school, right?_ He suddenly becomes aware of the flakey feeling on the palms of his hands, tight and itchy against his skin - blood, dried. He began to scratch at his hand, the blood falling off and onto the floor in small flakes.

 _What the fuck just happened?_ He casted wide eyes down at his hands as he continued to itch them, turning increasingly more violent. Soon, he felt his skin break and he stared at his now bleeding hand. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was scratching, but he really didn’t care. All he had was Violet on his mind. That was all he could think about.

 _Violet…_ He hadn’t realized how much he'd missed her. Somehow he’d gone on this long, just… ignoring her death. When she first died he had simply pretended everything was okay. But it never was okay. Tears fell down his face. _God, Vi…_ he cleaned his eyes with his non-injured hand and sniffled loudly, though the tears didn’t stop, continuing to stream down his face. Violet dying was something that hit so hard on him. The last words she ever said were ones he’d never forget.

_“Louis, I am so sorry. This is all my fault… I need to make this up to you.”_

Shaking his head he looked down. _I need to find a distraction… something… anything..._ He started to drag himself, feeling the carpet burn beneath him. The one time he doesn't bring his jacket, he’s going to get a shit ton of carpet burn as long as this continues. But for some odd reason he couldn’t find it in himself to even care about it. If it happened, it happened.

The first room, Louis didn’t even bother going into. It looked to be a little kid's room if the small, disheveled race car bed in the corner, the baby blue wall and dinosaur stickers all over said wall were anything to go by. He couldn't waste time there, he had to find something _useful_ . Or at least something to be able to _distract_ him and honestly, he didn’t want anything from the kid’s room. He had grown out of that, or at least that’s what he wanted to believe.

Louis peeped into the other room carefully, taking it slow as he crawled across the floor. He bumped into a nightstand and the sound of shattering of glass rang in his ears as he looked at what fell, sharply inhaling when he noticed the knocked over picture frame. His bloody, shaking hands carefully picked up the wooden frame, his eyebrows rising at the two men in the picture, all dressed up in military clothes, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, smiles painted on their faces. He leaned up best he could as he let out an exhale and placed the frame on the nightstand, whispering an apology in his head when he noticed the crack on the glass that ran through the whole picture. At least it wasn’t too badly broken.

Along with the picture, a folder had fallen down. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he opened it up. _Files of the two men from when they were in the military_ , he noted. Louis cocked his head, confused on why they would have this just out in the open.

He grabbed the profile of what looked to be the shorter man of the two.

 _Jones Anderson… 5 foot 9 inches, 176 cm… Wait, that’s— missing a leg?_ It took him a second to connect the dots inside his head, and when they did, his heart exploded with excitement and his fingertips tingled with impatience as he took a quick look of the room again, his eyes landing on the closet _._ He pulled himself the best he could with one leg and opened the doors. His eyes fell on two overarm crutches and one prosthetic. Above the knee. With everything - the sock, the leg. He quickly pulled it over and began putting everything on. It was unrealistic how well it fit him.

Louis stood up, wobbling as he looked down. He couldn’t help the huge, toothy smile on his face. He wanted to just dance or do something dumb to release the sheer excitement coursing through his veins. _How the hell am I so lucky— well, I did get Clementine to date me, so I am one lucky son of a bitch._ He smiled wider, if that was even possible, using the wall as he headed back into the living room to retrieve his shoe. He looked at the now bloodied carpet that was once an off-color white. _Am I dreaming, or does this dude have the exact same shoe size as me? Oh my lord._ He slipped it on rather easily, but almost fell over in the process.

 _Holy hell, this is gonna be hard to walk with._ Using a ponytail holder on his wrist, Louis tied his dreads back and continued to try and walk. The wound only being at most ten hours old was starting to take a toll, but Louis wasn’t giving up. It hurt like all hell and felt as if his skin was ripping apart.

_Just keep walking. Clem does this all the time… but Clem still has her knee… I don’t. Fuck it, I can still do this. I gotta be able to get home. To her… Right? I know Ruby said something about how Clem couldn’t use a leg for a while but I just… I need to get back to Clementine. Right? How the hell would they manage to find me. I needed to find them… But fuck, this hurts._

Deciding the pain wasn't worth it, Louis headed back into the room and looked at the crutches. ripping the leg off. _Gonna have to use these instead…_ He made his way into the kid’s room slowly as the crutches creaked on the hardwood floor. _Least these are overarm and not going to hurt my pits._ He let out a weak and pain filled laugh as he looked down at the one foot he now had. But instead of focusing on that he looked up and let his eyes look around the room.

Glow in the dark stars were all over the walls and a small lava lamp on the table. He let out a soft smile as he moved closer to the bed. _If you weren’t so tall— or well, average height, you could take a nap in this. That would have been fun._ He let out a soft snicker, picking up a stack of playing cards he found on the nightstand as well. _I could make a huge ass house of cards now that I have two packs of cards._

Louis used the bed to help him sit down and he grabbed his own deck, beginning to make the stack of cards. But that quickly bored him. Card games were always better with other people. Even building a house of cards is better when someone is watching him.

After a few minutes he stood up and used the crutches. _What could he do to keep himself busy..._ The kitchen was a choice. He headed into there and opened the fridge just to entertain himself, not expecting anything when… _a bottle of Whiskey? Maybe this can help with the pain in my leg? Honestly, I’m willing to try anything at this point_. Suddenly, he popped the cap open and began to chug. He had never drank anything alcoholic before.

Louis pulled the bottle away and coughed loudly. It was stronger than he was expecting it to be. _Holy fuck._ He pushed his hair out of his face, looking at the bottle as he began to chug more of it. Chugging until it was all gone. _Now, this will kick in soon… right?_ He sighed as he sat back and took in a deep and relaxing breath.

It took a while of him sitting there, but he eventually felt it kick in and the pain that was once in his leg became much more bearable than it was before. Clementine was the first thing to pop into his mind. Everything about her. Everything that made her amazing filled his mind. Her curly brown hair, her golden brown eyes, that dumb hat, and the fact it’s been over five years and she still wears the necklace that he gave to her when they first started dating. After she saved him from the Delta and he had his time to recover and she had hers. They made it official, and that’s how Louis made it official in his own mind. Making her a small gift. Something she could keep with her for a while.

She always wore it. She always kept it safe. She never took it off. Even after everything that happened to the both of them. They stayed strong and… she still loved him so much. And he still loved her so much.

True lovers as he would say. Louis believed in true love. He has for as long as he could remember.

Looking at Clem… their date… he knew they were meant to be.

Even if she didn’t save him…

Suddenly Louis felt tears prick in his eyes. It.. still made no sense. Clem really truly loved him but she didn’t save him. He used to put it off as it’s what he deserved, as he himself wouldn’t even save him. But as Louis got older he knew his own worth.

But it was a split second decision. 

A split second decision that changed Louis’ life forever. 

He slammed the bottle on the ground, which shattered into a thousand little pieces and went all over the floor. Tears began streaming down his face. Losing his tongue was one of the worst things that had ever happened to him, there was no doubt about that. 

Five years later and it was still the worst thing to ever happen. He still had flashes. Still had the horrible memories of that night.

It would probably haunt Louis for the rest of his life. And… sometimes he forgot about what life once was. There were still days he just wanted to sing. Just wanted to tell some stupid joke. But it’s the damn apocalypse and it’s not like he could get a prosthetic tongue. Even though he wanted one oh so badly. 

But this is what it was. Life was now silent on his side of things. When he tried to talk he could barely get anything out. It was just some garbled mess. He could talk a little and honestly depending on his choice of words it didn’t always sound too bad… but it was awful to him and he hated having to even have the amalgamation of no tongue, not talking for five years and drooling and everything else in between being his only communication option. Thank god for sign language and thank god for notebooks and being able to just write things down.

 _You’re getting too worked up, Louis. Maybe… I need to go to sleep._ He sighed and closed his eyes and felt himself fall asleep.

_Again, Louis opened his eyes to see his childhood bedroom. The piano, the TV and gaming consoles, the lava lamp, the green walls, and comforter. Everything was there, it looked exactly like he had remembered his childhood bedroom to be. He didn’t wait around this time. He moved as fast as he could to the grand staircase, and ran down the stairs, once again skipping the last five or six steps, and ran to the kitchen, looking out the window, his heart beating as fast as ever._ No, no, she wasn't out here, where could she be? _He couldn't seem to remember where Violet was the last time he was here. He needed to see her again. He just..._ had _to see her._

 _ _ _"Violet! Violet! Where are you? Please?" he ran to the front of the house, trying to find her but to no avail. She wasn't out there. His heart wouldn't stop racing as he kept looking around.___ Where even was she last time? _God, why can't he just remember where she is? "Violet! Please don't leave me again! No!" he ran to the dining room, looking in every window. "God where the fuck is she?" he felt himself begin to cry, falling to his knees._ Think, Louis, think! Where was she last time... Not in the entry... the back of the house? In the living room? _He stood up and ran back to the living room, looking once again in every single window that_ _he could find... when he heard a cry._

_His head was whipping around, looking to see if he could see where Violet was - if she was even here this time around._

_And then he saw her. The blonde girl was looking in his direction but through him. Like Louis wasn’t even there. "Violet! Look at me!" he called out. But nothing. She did nothing. Nothing at all. Just absolutely fucking_ nothing.

_“Violet, please!” he banged his hands against the glass, which shattered into a thousand pieces as soon as he put his hands to it. He jumped back, looking at his hands, bloodied from hitting the glass. Cuts covered his hands as blood dripped all over the floor. He clenched them into fists. He felt no pain, so there was no use looking at them._

_His eyes were now glued to her. Still bloodied and disheveled. Her shoes weren’t even on her feet. Barefoot as she stood out in the rain. her feet were muddied and bloodied,_

_Louis was scared to do anything. Staring into her eyes for a long while. All she did was blink, and stand there with an emotionless look on her face. Just staring at thin air, or whatever happened to be in front of her._

_A gaping wound— a bite on her neck kept distracting him. Poor Violet… She didn't act like a walker but she sure looked like one... she looked so hurt. So dead. Just... not the Violet he knew. But she sacrificed herself for Tenn, and that's something Violet would do, that's her. Seeing the aftermath..._

_He needed to see her again, so he took a step forward and—_


End file.
